The French liked their protocols. Youhadto take one of the festivalcars to the premiere at the time assigned to you.
“Right?” he said. “If Dorian Fisher can do it, then so can he. But the dude was mad. I felt like I was negotiating a hostage situation. As if they were going to start the premiere without the main cast anyway!”
I chuckled. “Who was the actor?”
He shook his head. “I shouldn’t.”
“No, of course.”
Did I really care who the C-list actor was? No. I probably didn’t even know him anyway. And I understood the importance of secrecy. Just riding along in the back of cars with Carmen, I’d heard my fair share of juicy secrets. I never even told Ben. Carmen liked me because she could trust me. That trust was what would get me promoted. But at this rate, there might be no job at all.
Still, an idea was making its way through my brain.
“What if you turned around and whispered his name, not to me, but to the air in front of you.”
I was kidding, sort of. To my surprise, there was a spark in his eyes. He was tempted.
“I can’t get in trouble. I’m only an assistant.”
“I bet you’ve been dying to tell that story all day. Us little people are human, too. We need to blow off steam.”
He was giving in. I could tell. The line had finally moved, but only by two people.
“You’re an assistantfor now,” I continued. “No one’s getting in trouble, except maybe that douchebag with his publicist. I don’t know your name anyway. We’re just anonymous worker bees.”
He sighed and looked from left to right, but no one was paying attention.
“It’s Will Thompson,” he whispered under his breath. “Ugh, I have to run after him all day tomorrow. Weed isn’t even legal in France, and Idon’t want to get arrested in a foreign country. I reallyneedthat drink.”
But I didn’t. Not anymore.
Being invisible hadsomeperks. The one thing we had going for us was access. To movie studio executives. To stylists, makeup artists, hair people. We didn’t matter, which meant that people rarely worried about what they said or did in front of us. Case in point, Will Thompson and his tantrum. And whatever information we had, no one could stop us from letting it seep out into the world like water through the hairline fracture of a crystal glass.
I mumbled “Good luck” to the guy and stepped out of the line, scanning my surroundings with renewed interest. But first, I googled Will Thompson and made notes of what my new bestie had just shared.
That’s just basic publicity training.
And really, it was Carmen who’d planted the seed of this idea, talking about how she didn’t want to play dirty,but. I knew what she really meant. She couldn’t becaughtplaying dirty. And she wouldn’t. I could give up on my screenplay and act like the perfect girlfriend. But I wasnotletting go of that promotion. I deserved this, if nothing else. Whatever it took, I would make it happen.
I did it right away, before I could change my mind. I had an old, generic email address I hadn’t used in years, and it took only a few seconds to find the contact onDis-Moi Tout’s website. The one where people sent anonymous tips. I didn’t include Will Thompson’s name, just enough identifying details along with the story of his diva act.
Hitting Send gave me a delicious jolt of adrenaline. A little kick to get me started.
I had a mission now. A new purpose.
For the next hour, I worked the room. Put on the charm. Commiserated about the shitty service or marveled at the beauty of Cannes, depending on the vibe I was getting. I shared the story about the actor’s meltdownas if it had happened to me.
Lips loosened. Secrets spilled. I heard about who’d had a fit in the lobby of the Martinez because their suite wasn’t the biggest one they had and demanded new arrangements be made, only to have to swallow their anger when a brutal “not possible” came in response.
I chuckled at the movie star who cried wet sloppy tears during her fitting with Dior because her dress showed the tiniest bit of stomach definition. Deep down I felt total sympathy about the pregnancy rumors that were about to be chucked at her, like peanuts at a monkey, but I was trying to make friends here.
I nodded somberly at the major producer who seemed to get a kick out of discussing the gory details of his divorce in front of the help. I shook my head at the other producer who complained that it had become too risky to try to bed hot young things, loudly enough for the hot young things to hear. You know, in case that turned them on.
On the surface I was a listening ear, there to commiserate with my people. Underneath, I was mining them all for content. For a brief moment, I considered running this strategy by Carmen. She praised me when I took the initiative, but I never ran away with them without her expressed consent.
But if I thought about it—though clearly I didn’t think about itenough—it was better if she didn’t know. That way, she could deny any shady practices.
So I’d be doing this on my own. And no one would know anyway. The anonymous tips couldn’t be traced back to me. It was all very manageable. A plan I could, andwould, execute without a fault.
